Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1887-11-17
NO. 45.

Not bit, Dresden. To tell the truth,
he said, In burst Of confidence, and with {
mild air of triumph at the recollection o
| his brilliant artihcc. y iiatter myself that
managed that pretty we'll. told her u
| look for me In three week. I know 70 wo
man. They are all right as long as they
have something to take up their minds.
know looking for me would sort of break
up the time aud give her something to think
Of
And what tink you dat occupation will
be already, Mr.. Meredit ? And indeet IL IL
fiery nice for woman TO be linking how the
wild Apaches haf maybe got her mans
scalp, or he IL fiery like 10 fall I'm under
some big rock, or blowed in pieces by a
blast The speaker had risen 10 his feet
and his bowed form Strengthened as he con-
fronted Meredith in his wrath. Mr.. Mere.
dit, when your wife Ifs aud your child IL
of right mint, you need not tank yourself.
The man he addressed stared straight be-
fore him, as IL he saw n phantom. His
easy confidence had deserted him, and he
trembled from head 10 foot. The possible
results of his adroit strategy marched In
spectral procession before him.
Good Lord, Dresden " lac faltered. III
anything has happened TO her, / had better
so over the precipice now
Il know not dat de loss wood be fiery
great answered the other cody. He could
NOT fnrgi va the falio.v In n ynonnaot nnlx,
dat she is fool-all vimmen are FOOLS he
remarked, ,sententiously, and If she Ifs
Striking his spurs deep into the fianks of
his horse, Meredith dashed around the bend
in tie road aud in few seconds the clat-
ter Of hoofs had died away In the distance.
Old Dresden, with a queer smile on his
plain face, touched up bis lazy animal and
continued his journey southwark.
At day break the next morning David
Rowell, prowling about like a wrath In
the dim light, heard horse coming up the
southern road. Meredith checked his gait
as he saw the tall figure approaching.
Don't say il, Rowell, he protested
There is just one thing left TO do He drew
a revolver from his case in his belt, and delib-
erately cooked it. David Rowellknocked 1t
from his hand and it exploded harmlessly
in a clump of sagebrush couple of rods
away. As he viewed the pale face and
staring eyes and the gaunt figure, stiff and
erect in the saddle, the words of reproach, If
he had any ready, died upon his lips.
Courage, john" he said. She's alive.
wouldn't have answered for another day.
Dresden said John Meredith, one MORN
ing few months later, as he strolled into the
back yard, bearing in his arms small bum
dle which he handles' with awkard tender
ness, you haven't d. : anything in the
chicken line this summer, hear
The little man was wrestling with root
shaped like a two-headed dog.
Nod much, he replied shortly, and
brought down the axe with force that
cleft the heads in twain.
Sorry. We miss the fresh eggs and
spring chickens. i say, Dresden, he went on
musingly, You didn't make so much out
of those gimcracks rs you thought you
would, now, did you? I've always Won
dered what in time sent you down into that
forsaken country anyhow
From beneath his bushy eyebrows Dres
den stole queer glance at his careless
questioner. Meredith sprang up rs if he
had been shot.
What ? Confound ycu.'
Dresden nodded. Meredith stretched out
his hand to him. Two palms, one grimy
and hardened with toll, met in a clasp over
the sleeping babe.